


Chicago; The Finish Line

by feverkylo



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 01:23:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverkylo/pseuds/feverkylo
Summary: Four friends set their destination to Chicago and start their road trip, but escaping your problems at home doesn't seem to solve them. Just a snippet of a time spent on the road.





	Chicago; The Finish Line

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this thing like three years ago, but it's been sitting in my files all this time. It's not a long story, but I hope it makes you feel one way or another. Enjoy!!

The night is dark and misty and the thick forest on both sides of the narrow street blocks away the rest of the world. The old van moves softly, the constant hum of the engine lulling the passengers asleep. Only Ryan remains awake on the driver’s seat, his glassy eyes glued to the road.

They’re driving towards Chicago, have been for the last few days now. The temperature keeps dropping the further they get, but the landscapes get more and more astonishing. If it weren’t the middle of the night, Ryan would love to go take pictures of the forest surrounding them.

The soft sounds of his sleeping friends make Ryan want to pull over and catch up on few hours of sleep too, but it’s his turn to drive for another four hours. By then they should be almost in Chicago. Jon wants to stop there, meet his family again. So that’s their stop and Ryan makes a mental note to remind Spencer to look for cheap motels in the area. Jon said his family would be happy to have them over, but no one was really up for the idea. It would be a free stay, but they’d feel like they’re intruding.

Ryan glances to his left where Brendon is sleeping on the passenger seat. His head is pressed against the window and his breath fogs the surface. Brendon has seemed happier, Ryan thinks. They all needed to get away from home for a bit. It makes Ryan feel a tiny bit better about the world; to see that at least someone might be able to outrun their demons.

Really it’s all thanks to Jon. Two months ago he was just a random guy sleeping on the grass at a park and Ryan almost tripped on him. A weird way to start a friendship, but it felt right. Jon was like a wave of fresh water that crashed into the deserted town in Vegas.

Ryan invited him over and he met Spencer and Brendon and they just all clicked with each other. Jon talked about his crazy adventures, how he had spent a few months in Europe and then when he came back home to Chicago he didn’t feel like he fit in there anymore, so he left again. This time he ended up in Vegas, right on Ryan’s path at the park and then somehow in Spencer’s apartment, drinking beer on the floor with three other guys.

And then they all decided to leave -a roadtrip to Chicago. It was a bit rushed, sure, but it was the right thing to do. None of them really had anything going on, so a drive through the States felt like a much needed escape.

Ryan no longer had anyone in Vegas anyway, nothing to stay there for. And Brendon, oh Brendon.

Ryan looks at his sleeping friend again and gets lost in his thoughts for a moment. He feels tired and he’s just about to doze off when there’s a loud thud and he momentarily loses control over the van.

His breath gets caught in his throat and he hits the breaks. The van stops and there’s groaning coming from the backseats. Ryan’s hands squeeze the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white.

“What the hell Ryan?” Spencer complains, his voice raspy from sleep.

“You okay?” Brendon asks. Ryan turns his head and meets Brendon’s wide, worrying eyes. “Did we hit something?”

“I-I don’t know,” Ryan stutters out. Did they? He almost fell asleep while driving. “I don’t know. Oh god-”

“Hey, calm down,” Jon says and his hand lands on the back of Ryan’s seat when he supports himself in order to get up. He pulls open the van door and goes out to investigate. He appears to be as calm as ever while he walks in front of the car and points at the bumper.

“There’s blood,” he informs loudly enough for the guys to hear.

“Oh my god,” Ryan whispers, still gripping the wheel. Jon disappears from the glow of the headlights.

“It’s okay Ry,” Spencer says, though he doesn’t sound very convincing. He gets out too and muffled voices start coming from outside.

“It was probably a fox or something,” Brendon reassures, biting his bottom lip. “Come on, let’s go see how bad it is.”

Ryan nods shakily and unbuckles his seatbelt. He hit something. There’s blood on the bumper. He almost fell asleep while driving.

The night air is freezing and Ryan cranes his neck to follow the clouds of his breath that rise up and dissolve against the black sky.

“It’s a dog,” Spencer’s voice says, heavy and apologetic. Jon is crouched down next to the animal.

“No name or phone number on the collar,” he says and that’s when Brendon appears next to Ryan and gives him a panicked look. Ryan swallows loudly and looks around in the dark. The car engine is still running, but other than that it’s silent.

He killed someone’s dog. The first set of tears run down his cheeks before he even realises he’s crying.

“Hey, hey, Ryan.” Brendon’s voice is rushed, but he’s trying to stay calm. He’s not succeeding very well. “It’s okay Ry. It was dark, you didn’t see it coming.”

“What do we do now?” Spencer asks.

Jon stands back up and wipes his hands on the front of his sweatpants. “We just have to leave it. Move it to the side of the street.”

“We can’t just-” Ryan starts, but his throat feels too tight. He killed someone’s dog. “We can’t just leave it. That’s someone’s pet.”

“There’s no phone number on the collar,” Jon repeats. “And it’s the middle of the night. I’m sorry, Ryan.”

“We passed the last houses miles ago,” Spencer notes.

Ryan keeps quiet. He feels horrible and a little nauseous. Brendon wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him to the open backdoor of the van. A little further away Jon asks Spencer to help him move the body.

“Oh my god,” Ryan sniffles. “I killed someone’s dog.” Brendon pulls him into a hug and Ryan clings to him for comfort. His hands feel numb and there’s a voice yelling in him, saying how he has ruined everything. Brendon’s heart is beating so loudly Ryan hears it too.

Spencer walks to them a moment later. “It was an accident, Ry. Could’ve happened to any of us.”

“I can drive the rest of the way,” Jon volunteers.

“Spencer you take the front seat,” Brendon orders. As they pack themselves back into the small van, like nothing ever happened, Ryan glances over his shoulder one last time. He’s almost sure he can see the outlines of a dead animal in the blackness.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more,” Brendon says once the van is moving again. They’re sharing a blanket, but Ryan keeps shivering.

“I once hit a deer in Europe. I was alone and had no idea what to do,” Jon tells them, but no one says a word. “Maybe the owner will find the dog tomorrow.”

Thinking of it makes Ryan cry again. He holds his breath, but Brendon notices the tears anyway. He huddles closer and wraps an arm around Ryan.

“What did you do with the deer, then?” Spencer asks finally, maybe out of morbid curiosity.

“It was still alive. I had to kill it.”

Nothing bad was supposed to happen. They’d been having a good time so far, but now- now Ryan killed someone’s dog. A choked sob leaves his throat. He doesn’t understand how everyone else is being so calm.

The humming sound of the engine finally begins to blur and Ryan falls asleep, his wet cheek pressed against Brendon’s warm chest.

*

The following morning Ryan wakes up with an uneasy heaviness in his chest. He blinks his eyes open against the harsh morning light and as he comes to his senses he realises the van isn’t moving anymore. The front seats are empty, but Brendon is still in there with him, leaning against Ryan in his sleep.

Ryan sits up and looks outside, taking in the view. They’re parked outside a gas station and he assumes Spencer and Jon are inside, trying to wash themselves the best they can using the bathroom sinks. The thought of trying to wash his hair in a small sink doesn’t feel very appealing, but Ryan needs to brush his teeth. He sets his hand on Brendon’s shoulder and gently shakes him awake.

“Huh? Are we there?” Brendon mumbles and Ryan lets out a quiet chuckle.

“We’re at a gas station in… somewhere.”

Brendon groans and stretches, his hands brushing against the ceiling. “I need to wash my hair,” he says groggily. And he’s right, though Ryan doesn’t comment on it. His hair is glued to his head and it looks fairly disgusting.

They look around for their stuff in the claustrophobic space for a moment. The back of the van is mostly stuffed with empty soda or energy drink cans, random trash, their clothes and things they felt like they needed to take with them when they left. Ryan moves his acoustic guitar and finds his duffle bag underneath it.

The morning air is crisp and Ryan feels more awake after taking in a few breaths. There’s two other cars parked on the asphalt, but the place still seems pretty dead.  
Last night feels like a blur. Ryan doesn’t want to think about it, so when Brendon asks how he is, he simply shrugs. Fortunately Brendon seems to realise he doesn’t feel like talking and drops the topic.

“Man, I really need a clean pair of socks and underwear,” Brendon sighs as he pulls open the glass door.

“Didn’t you pack any?” Ryan asks, amused.

“Not enough, didn’t realize we’d be gone so long, and I ran out of space.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow at Brendon. “What did you pack?”

“Food?” Brendon says like it should be obvious. “My favourite CD’s? Come on, Ross,” he sighs and gently pokes Ryan’s shoulder. His smile makes Ryan feel at ease again.

The old man behind the counter gives them a friendly smile when they disappear into the men’s room. As expected, they find Jon and Spencer in there.

“Morning,” Brendon chirps, receiving a tired nod from Jon and a smile from Spencer. “Where are we?”

“Iowa city, Illinois,” Jon says proudly. He stayed up for the rest of the night to drive them here. “We’ll be in Chicago in maybe four hours,” he says happily and throws his towel on his shoulder. His hair is wet and glued to his skin and he looks dead tired, but happy. Well, he’s about to meet his family again, so of course he must be happy.

“Ry, can I borrow toothpaste?” Brendon asks, snapping Ryan out of his thoughts.

“Sure,” he mumbles.

“You sleep okay?” Spencer asks, addressing both Ryan and Brendon, though his blue eyes are glued on Ryan’s brown ones.

“Yeah. I guess,” Ryan shrugs and looks down. He feels unbelievably bad about the dog. “I don’t know.” The round of sympathetic looks he gets in response make him feel even more quilty. Fortunately Brendon squeals just then, drawing Spencer’s and Jon’s attention to him instead.

“There’s a cockroach!” Brendon screams, pointing in the sink. Spencer bursts out laughing as Jon walks closer to take a look. “Holy fuck it’s huge! It’s so disgusting!” Brendon continues screaming. Ryan laughs when Brendon hides behind his back, his hands squeezing Ryan’s sides. Maybe he didn’t ruin everything after all.

*

Chicago, Illinois. It’s cold and it’s crowded in comparison to the empty gas stations the guys have visited recently. Jon changed to the cleanest clothes he could find and he looks a little nervous, which amuses the guys since Jon is never nervous.

“I’m just excited to see my family,” he smiles happily. He’s driving again, since he’s the only one who knows the address. Their van doesn’t really blend into the suburb and they get some weird looks from conservative parents watching their kids play outside.

“We’ll drop you off and go look for a motel, right?” Spencer makes sure.

“Sure, however you want. You can stay over for dinner though,” Jon prompts, and so they do. Mrs. Walker is friendly, much like her son, and she seems happy to chat away about her son’s Europe trips and other adventures. She digs out an old photo album full of pictures taken by Jon.

Mr. Walker is more quiet, but he smiles as he listens to Jon recapping how he met Ryan in Vegas.

“I was out of money, out of food and sleeping in the park and then Ryan shows up,” he laughs, a fondness in his eyes as he thinks back to it. “Like a saving angel."

The guys don’t want to overstay, so sometime after five in the afternoon they leave Jon behind and pack themselves into the van.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” Spencer smiles before waving a goodbye to Jon. They haven’t really planned their next move yet, so Ryan is growing a bit anxious.

Brendon drives them out of the suburbs and back on the road. They spotted a cheap motel not too far away on the freeway that they start heading for. The drive is silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

“Do you guys miss home?” Brendon suddenly asks. He’s leaning forward behind the wheel - like he’s not completely at ease with driving.

Spencer bites his lip and nods. “A little. I miss my sisters.”

“They probably miss you too,” Brendon says, giving Spencer a small smile while Ryan sulks in the backseat. There’s a hollow edge to Brendon’s tone -he hopes someone back home misses him too. “How about you Ry, do you miss home at all?”

The night is falling over them already -the days are so short during the fall. Just then Spencer tells Brendon to take a left and they pull into the driveway of a cheap looking motel which has to be the right one.

Ryan looks at the faintly glowing neon sign attached to the side of the building and how it illuminates the inside of the van, drawing Brendon’s outline white. This feels more like home than anything ever has.

*

That night Ryan can’t sleep. He’s sharing a bed with Brendon who quietly mumbles in his sleep every now and then. They slept in a motel somewhere in Nebraska after driving for twelve hours from Vegas. It was the cheapest option; to take one room with two narrow beds.

It probably became a habit right after the first time; Spencer with Jon and Ryan with Brendon. Except tonight Jon is sleeping in his home and Spencer alone, which he seemed very happy about; he even bragged about getting the whole bed to himself before they went to sleep.

But sleep is not coming. Ryan keeps thinking about everything; the dog and how he’s so sorry, and how that somehow reminded him that bad things still happen. They had such an easy trip until he had to go ruin it like that. He lets out a sharp, anxious breath and rolls onto his back.

He had never felt more free in his life than the night they left Vegas, accompanied with their new friend Jon. It was the best night of his life, but maybe he shouldn’t have let himself forget that even after the best night of your life there’s always the morning after.

Now he’s in Chicago; on the other side of the States, and he has no idea what he’s going to do next. He had his escape, they made it to Chicago, to the finish line. Now what?  
Ryan feels his chest tighten at the thought and maybe he makes a scared noise in his throat or maybe he’s moving around too much, because he wakes up Brendon. The younger boy throws his arm over Ryan’s stomach and lies partly on top of him, nuzzling his neck. It makes Ryan flush, but he doesn’t tell Brendon to move.

“What’ca thinking?” Brendon asks quietly, his voice wavering a bit.

“Home,” Ryan replies somewhat vaguely.

“Hmm. I had a dream that my mom called me.”

Ryan doesn’t know what to say, so he lifts his hand and wraps it around Brendon’s middle a little awkwardly. “Do you miss your parents?” Ryan then asks.  
“I don’t know. They kicked me out after all,” Brendon sighs. “I don’t think I should miss them but I do.”

“It’s okay to miss them, I know how you feel,” Ryan admits in his sleep deprived state. Brendon stays quiet and Ryan takes it as an invite to keep talking. He bites his lip unsurely before continuing. “I still miss my dad. Even though he was never really nice to me.”

Ryan thinks of the funeral and how he couldn’t talk about how he felt back then. Brendon was there though. They hadn’t even known each other for that long yet, but Brendon came to the funeral and comforted him like they’d been friends forever. He was just there, no questions asked.

“And I feel like- like I ruined this. I hit a dog, Brendon, I didn’t mean to but I did and I feel so bad, like I started an unstoppable series of bad events.” Ryan feels a bit embarrassed about letting it all out there, but Brendon’s not judging, he knows he’s not.

Brendon shifts around and pulls Ryan on his side so they can face each other. “You didn’t ruin anything, Ry. We might’ve made it to Chicago, but this isn’t the end, okay?”

“Okay,” Ryan replies a little uncertainly. He moves to get a handful of Brendon’s shirt in his hand and the younger boy immediately moves closer. Together they find a position that’s the best for cuddling.

“Are you tired?” Brendon asks and yawns, making Ryan yawn too.

“Yeah.”

“You can sleep,” Brendon whispers and Ryan tries to nod but he feels so comfortable and safe in Brendon’s arms all he can do is close his eyes.

*

There’s a weird sense of loss in the air. The rain comes suddenly and unexpectedly, making the guys gaze worriedly up to the sky outside the Walker household.

“He’s gotten worse really suddenly,” Jon says sadly. “And as much as I want to keep travelling with you guys I think I need to be here for my dad while I can, you know?”

“Yeah, we totally understand,” Spencer nods, his blue eyes concerned, but calm. He sets his hand on Jon’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry about your dad getting sick,” Brendon says and he looks so young with his big eyes and hunched shoulders. Ryan wants to hug him and make all the bad things go away.

“The doctors hope he’ll get better but who knows,” Jon sighs. Momentarily they all forget the rain as they hug Jon goodbye. They make promises to see, to call, maybe one day travel together again.

And it’s hard and heavy and it feels wrong. Ryan doesn’t want this to end, it can’t, not yet, not like this. Spencer and Brendon start walking back to the van, parked on the side of the street next to a row of mailboxes.

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” Jon asks Ryan. “After something like this the normal life doesn’t feel real anymore.”

“Jon,” Ryan starts, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I know,” Jon smiles. “It was a crazy coincidence we ever met in the first place, that I needed to get home and you needed to get away from home.”

“Fate?” Ryan asks jokingly and they both laugh, but it’s only happy for a short moment until reality sets back, hard and heavy. “Take care, Jon,” Ryan says, and those few words hold much more meaning in them, coming from Ryan, than they would coming from someone who hadn’t gone through what he has.

“I will.”

And then Jon walks back into the house and it’s final. Ryan joins Brendon and Spencer in the van, but no one talks, no one puts on music or starts talking about some nonsense. Spencer drives, his shoulders stiff and his grip of the wheel a bit too tight.

They drive without direction for almost two hours and just when Ryan is about to drift off to sleep, Brendon speaks up.

“Where do we go now?” He asks and Ryan turns to look at him. He looks sad, scared. He doesn’t have a home in Vegas anymore. He had been looking for jobs, but got none. He has nothing. Ryan extends his hand before really thinking and Brendon immediately latches their fingers.

Spencer pulls over on the side of the street. He lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know,” he admits. “We haven’t even been gone for very long.”

It’s true, they haven’t. But with every mile they drove it became clearer to Ryan that he didn’t want to return to Vegas.

“Do we go back?” Brendon asks.

Spencer looks serious. “We have to go back at some point, right? And my job-”

“I’m not going back,” Ryan cuts in. Spencer gives him a look like he was kind of expecting that. “I’m not saying you can’t, I just- I can’t go back. I don’t want to.”

“Where are you gonna go?” Brendon sounds panicked and it makes Ryan feel bad because the last thing he wants is to make Brendon feel like he’s going to end up alone.

“I don’t know yet,” Ryan admits and grips Brendon’s hand tighter. They fall into silence for a while.

“I need to go back home,” Spencer then says like he’s really made up his mind.

He went to a ton of job interviews a few weeks before they left and he’s soon going to hear if he got any of those jobs. He has a future, there, and a family that misses him. He had a little thing going on with this girl and maybe she’s still there, waiting for him to come back. He has what he needs, what he wants, in Vegas.

Spencer seems apologetic even though there’s no need for him to be, no need for him to justify wanting to get back home.

*

Vegas was always dry and dead, so seeing tall trees and green grass and lakes makes Ryan feel alive. The engine hums as he drives towards something, a camping area maybe, and he thinks of Jon in Chicago, spending time with his dad, and he thinks of Spencer, his best friend, who made it back to home in Vegas. He got a job at a local company and he’s going to ask Hayley to marry him.

And Ryan misses his friends every day, because the beat up van isn’t exactly the same without all the four of them in it, but it’s okay.

He looks to his left and smiles at Brendon, who catches him looking and beams back at him. And it’s okay. Everything’s okay because they’re gonna keep driving and the last time they called Jon and Spencer they promised to send them both postcards from wherever they end up.

They’re going to Maine for now. It’s cold up there in the winter, but Brendon wanted to see snow and of course Ryan was going to go with him. Go see snowy forests, the frozen seashore, sleep in the back of the van pressed tightly against each other.

And maybe it’s temporary for the two of them too, but right now, Brendon by his side and the open road ahead of them, Ryan feels like they’re both already right where they’re supposed to be.


End file.
